


we don't talk about it (we don't have the time)

by hotelparkinglot



Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: F/F, can you tell i've never done this before, i dont know, tw: monster?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotelparkinglot/pseuds/hotelparkinglot
Summary: “What does it sound like to you?” Emma asks then. Alyssa takes a minute to listen to the fog horn blow before she answers.“A warning,” she decides.“To me, it sounds like a call."
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	we don't talk about it (we don't have the time)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song august by flipturn!
> 
> not sure what inspired me to write a prom and ray bradbury crossover, but this is based off of his short story the fog horn. i've never written a fanfic before, so i hope this is okay!

Alyssa Greene had taken the job at the lighthouse on a whim about three months ago. Truthfully, she hadn't been expecting to keep it for very long. It was just until she could branch out a little more. Edgewater, as it turned out, didn’t have very many job openings. Besides, she had become rather fond of the owner of the lighthouse, a blonde woman with unruly curls and a charming smile.

“Watch yourself, Greene,” she says. “You might find yourself still living here in fifty years if you aren’t careful. This town has a way of snagging your heart.”

“Maybe it’s not just the town, Nolan.” Alyssa always replies with a soft smile, reveling in the way Emma blushes at her words. The blonde is so composed that it is rare to see her cheeks burn or her hands fidget. Which is why Alyssa finds herself endlessly concerned one chilly night in August. Emma seems nervous, in a way the brunette has never seen her. The sun is hanging on for dear life at the edge of the world, bathing everything in a strange glow. It only adds to the unusual tension that has Emma curled into herself as she gazes out across the sea. 

“Em, please, what's got you so jumpy?” she asks for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour. Emma studies her for a long minute before reaching up to adjust her hat.

“The ocean is fascinating, ‘Lys,” she finally says, offering her hand to Alyssa. She takes it immediately, squeezing gently. It seems to prompt Emma into speaking again. “I was out here one night. Years ago. I was just looking out at the sea, admiring it, when this big ole’ school of fish just came out of nowhere. Hovering right below the surface, staring at the lighthouse. They were enraptured, like...like they were in the presence of a god. A couple minutes and then they were gone again. Never saw ‘em again. It occurred to me later how strange the lighthouse must look to them. This giant tower flashing red and white, howling mournfully into the night.”

A breeze curls its way around Alyssa’s neck and under the collar of her jacket, sending shivers through her body. She turns to stare out across the ocean, an endless plane of roiling water.

“It’s so full of life. Life we don’t even know about. Y’know it’s probably still 3000 B.C. down there. Time creeps by while we’ve been running around up here on land, making our silly little inventions and fighting pointless wars. We keep evolving, finding new ways to bring light to the world, but it’s still black as night all those miles below.” Emma’s voice grows stronger, more passionate as she rambles on.

“Yes, it’s an awfully old world, I’d imagine,” Alyssa agrees, tearing her eyes away from the ocean as Emma taps her hand. She lets the blonde help her up and tug her close. Emma pulls her hat off her head and fits it firmly on Alyssa’s with a little smile. 

“C’mon, I got something I need to tell you.”

They climb the spiraling steps, making aimless small talk and breaking down in giggles every so often. As they reach the top, Emma flicks the lights off to avoid reflections in the plate glass and takes a minute to admire the light. It’s turning smoothly, fog horn blowing every fifteen seconds on the dot. Alyssa has learned to expect nothing short of perfection from Emma when it comes to taking care of the lighthouse.

“What does it sound like to you?” Emma asks then. Alyssa takes a minute to listen to the fog horn blow before she answers.

“A warning,” she decides. 

“To me, it sounds like a call. To what, exactly I don’t know.” She slumps down against the wall. “There’s not a good way to tell you this so I’ll just say it, but before I do, I want you to know something. You’re free to leave. Tomorrow if you wish. You can take the motorboat first thing in the morning and drive away. Find yourself a nice house far away from the ocean and keep the lights on at night. Truly, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Sliding down next to Emma, Alyssa bumps her shoulder playfully. “Trying to get rid of me, Nolan?”

“Never, Alyssa.” Emma sounds more serious than she’s ever heard her, usual softness completely void from her tone. She doesn’t take it lightly, sobering up quickly, and resting her head on Emma’s shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, Emma. I want to stay with you as long as you’ll let me,” she whispers into the silence between fog horn blows.

“Right then, I suppose I’ll just tell you.” A deep breath jostles Alyssa’s head a bit, but she stays put. “Every year around this time, something visits the lighthouse.”

“Some...thing? Like the fish?”

“No, ‘Lys. I don’t know how to explain it. If I try, you’ll certainly think I’m all kinds of crazy. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

They sit together, finger entwined as they stare out into the night punctured by the sharp needle of light that spins steadily on its socket. Very few words are exchanged for hours.

Alyssa’s eyelids are beginning to feel heavy with Emma’s comforting warmth against her side and her thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. She grumbles incoherently as Emma shifts, jostling her head, but quickly silences when she realizes that the blonde has begun talking again.

“This was my grandfather’s lighthouse. I used to visit, as a kid, and he would tell me these stories. Told me that the fog horn was created by a man who had lost a lover at sea. ‘Maybe she will hear the calling of the fog horn, or see the flashing lights, and be reminded of me. Maybe it will help her find her way home.’ He always stopped before the end of the story. As I got older, I think I realized there was no ending. His lover never returned. After that, the fog horn always sounded so mournful to me. Always calling out to someone that would never answer. My grandma always thought he was full of bull. ‘It was created by a sensible woman to warn ships of land and that’s all, Richard,’ she would say.”

It makes Alyssa chuckle. “She sounds very down-to-earth.”

Emma turns to press a chaste kiss to her head. “She was. But I like his story better. Even with the lack of an ending. Sure, it sounds awfully sad, but I like to imagine that he found solace in the lighthouse, knowing he at least tried to get her back, or something equally as cheesy.”

“I like cheesy.”

“I know, hon.”

“So you think the fog horn calls this...thing to the lighthouse?” Alyssa asks.

“Perhaps. I’ll never know for sure, but you’ll see why-” She cuts herself off abruptly, shooting to her feet, startling Alyssa. The brunette scrambles hastily up after her, eyes snapping to where Emma is pointing urgently. Something is moving through the water towards the lighthouse. The surface ripples for a moment, before swelling and swelling, until it finally bursts in a spray of froth and Alyssa can’t contain a gasp. A head is poking out of the water, dark and huge, seaweed sliding off it.

Emma pulls Alyssa to her side, holding her around the waist. They keep their eyes fixed on the head as the water begins to swell again and a neck begins to emerge. Alysaa watches in twisted fascination as it keeps coming, until it’s nearly forty feet up, and only then does the body break the surface. It isn't the hulking shoulders she had been expecting, no, it’s a small lumpy looking thing. A dangerous island covered in crustaceans and slime. A tail flicked out of the water briefly before dipping back down. Alyssa thinks she might have said something.

“Steady, ‘Lyssa you’re alright.” Emma murmurs in her ear. She clenches her hands to stop them from shaking before twisting in Emma’s embrace, meeting hazel eyes with her own.

“That’s impossible. We’d know if something like that existed. It’s impossible,” she repeats. Emma’s eyes gleam with something akin to madness as she speaks.

“No, Alyssa, we’re impossible. It’s been around longer than we can even comprehend. We are the impossible ones, with our short, meaningless lives. That thing has been around for eons. It’s existed through everything ever documented, every single pointless war and fantastic invention. Maybe even as old as the world itself.”

As the creature moves through the water, its humongous eyes catch on the flashing light, reflecting the steady beat of red and white back at them.

“What do we do?” Her voice is hushed.

“Nothing we can do. We’re much safer here than trying to get to the mainland with that thing in the water.”

The thought of being in a tiny, defenseless boat with the creature so close makes a shudder run through Alyssa. She can feel a similar shiver wrack Emma’s own body in response.

“Why is it here?” Alyssa fights to keep her exclamations quiet. Within moments, she has her answer. The fog horn blows once and the monster opens its mouth, teeth bared horrendously, and lets out an answering cry. The sound is the exact same as that of the fog horn, but it holds years of loneliness and mourning. It is a desolate call, full longing for something long gone. It is soul crushing and Alyssa finds that there are sudden tears on her cheeks. Emma hugs her tighter, burying her face against dark curls.

“Do you understand now?” she asks Alyssa solemnly.

A nod.

“Think about it ‘Lys. That monster might be millions of years old. Maybe it spends its time thousands of miles below the surface and further out at sea than any of us dare to linger. It’s so crushed by the weight of its loneliness that it just rests there, unmoving. Then all of a sudden, one day it hears something that sounds vaguely familiar. An eye peeks open. An ear perks up. The sound echoes again and hope comes rushing back, hitting it so hard that it can’t stand to move. You see, it can’t believe that after all this time, it is finally hearing that oh-so-comforting call. It can’t possibly be real. It’s imagining things. So, it tamps down its hope and tries to ignore the sound.”

Emma’s words seem to bury themselves in Alyssa’s chest, making it feel heavy and tight with compassion for the monster. It doesn’t surprise her that Emma’s found compassion for the beast. She would seek to understand anything she possibly could about anyone who was as lonely as she had been.

 _Had been_. Alyssa can’t take her eyes off the monster, so she settles for tilting her head back against Emma’s shoulder, trying to convey her love wordlessly.

“But, it can’t ignore the sounds for long, ‘Lys. That’s why hope is a terrible and wonderful thing. It makes its decision to follow the calling. So, it starts to move. Slowly, of course, because if it burst forth all at once it would surely die. Bit by bit it moves closer to its beacon of hope. Every day its excitement grows. Can you imagine how it felt when it rose out of the water that first time and came face to face with something that looked exactly like it? Sounded exactly like it? God, ‘Lys, it must have felt so much lighter.”

Emma stops abruptly and Alyssa can feel her breath catch and her shoulders tremble once, but before she can turn around to comfort her, Emma has already composed herself with a long breath.

“Last year, it just seemed confused. Swam around in circles, cried out to the tower a couple times. It was understandably wary. Maybe even a little angry. I was terrified. Had no idea what it was gonna do. When the sun started toeing the horizon, though, it turned and fled from the light,” she continues.

The monster is even closer now. Its responses to the fog horn haven’t ceased and Alyssa still can’t take her eyes off it. It starts moving faster, sending panic shooting through Alyssa’s chest.

“Emma!”

With a surprised yelp, Emma pulls away, lunging to turn the horn off. The monster freezes and the abrupt motion sends waves crashing against the shore. A gargantuan head stares blankly into the still flashing light and for a long moment, everything is still.

Alyssa senses the shift first, probably because she still hasn’t taken her eyes off of the monster. There’s anger in its eyes, so raw and intense it makes her stumble backwards.

“Turn it back on, Nolan, now!” she cries. Emma fumbles with the switch, but her usually steady hands are shaking. It’s too late. The beast is coiling, readying itself to strike the tower and Alyssa grabs Emma’s hand, trying to pull her towards the stairs. The horn blares to life, finally, but it sounds more like a war cry.

“Downstairs!” Emma yelps, relenting to Alyssa’s tugging. They scramble down the spiraling steps, tripping over their boots and slamming against the walls in their rush. A tremor shakes the tower, accompanied by a deafening roar that leaves both of their hands clammy. “Cellar!”

Alyssa lets Emma shove her into the stone basement, barely big enough for the both of them to crouch together. Another roar sounds as their whole world seems to shake, rocks raining down around them. Alyssa reaches blindly for Emma, who engulfs her into a tight embrace, hands cupping the back of her head.

A moment of calm prompts Alyssa to lean back, trying to say something, but a hand claps over her mouth before she can. Emma’s eyes are wide and scared.

“Wha-” Alyssa mumbles indignantly, trying to pull away.

“Listen,” Emma breathes. She does.

A keening wail splits the air that is heavy with the stench of the sea. To anyone else, it will sound just like the fog horn. All is well, they will think, steering their ships around the cape. But to the couple clutching each other below the ruined lighthouse, it is full of mourning. The tower is gone. The monster came all this way only to end up with even less hope than it had before. The sound that has been calling to it for so long is gone. It is alone once again.

-

By the time they are dug out from under the rubble, dirty and exhausted, the sun is high and bright in the sky. The ocean laps calmly at the shore. There is no sign of the monster, save for a horrendous stench that permeates the air. Emma gestures sadly at the ruins.

“No idea what happened to it. Couple of nasty waves, I’d reckon.” She pinches Alyssa hard when the brunette opens her mouth. There is nothing to see, Alyssa realizes, nothing to prove what had happened. Just a crumbled lighthouse and the impossibly silent echoes of haunted moans.

It’s deeply unsettling.

-

Alyssa finds Emma standing, staring at the rubble long after everyone else has cleared off the island. She touches the blonde’s shoulders gently, to alert the woman of her presence.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Emma lets Alyssa wrap her arms around her waist from behind, leaning her chin on the blonde’s shoulder, trying to see exactly what it is that Emma sees among the wreckage. She knows she won’t. Emma has memories lying beneath the stone. “I never thought I’d see this thing fall down.”

“It doesn’t have to stay down. We can rebuild it.”

“We?” Emma sounds surprised.

“Yes, we. I said I wanted to stay, remember? That hasn’t changed.”

“It hasn’t?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me, Nolan.”

-

A new lighthouse is built, under the couple's watchful eye. Emma makes a few special requests. Reinforced concrete, barred windows, and a slightly larger cellar. Alyssa asks if they can paint it purple instead of red. Emma busts out laughing for the first time since the original tower toppled, and even though it ends up with firetruck red stripes instead of purple, Alyssa considers it a victory.

They don’t see the monster again. Somewhere, deep down, Alyssa knows they never will. It doesn’t stop her from sitting huddled against the wall at the top of the tower, staring out across the sea every night.

“It learned a hard lesson,” Emma says one night when she brings Alyssa a mug of tea. “Nothing in this world will ever love you back as much as you love it.”

She leans forward then, kissing Alyssa’s forehead gently. “Unless, of course, you’re me.”

And _oh_ it makes her swoon. “Or me.”

Emma bites back a goofy grin. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Emma Nolan.”

**Author's Note:**

> again this was inspired by the fog horn by ray bradbury
> 
> it was a little short but hope i did this justice. thanks for reading if you made it this far!


End file.
